


Forever

by czechTexan



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, First Time Sex, Fluff and Smut, These women are such emotional messes for each other, post-3x08, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/czechTexan/pseuds/czechTexan
Summary: After the bridge, Villanelle and Eve find out together just what the choice to turn back means for them.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 11
Kudos: 111





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as 2 separate pieces on Tumblr under @schaddenfreude. I decided to post here in one fic.

The metaphorical Earth shifts under them again when they enter Eve's tiny apartment. As the quaking subsides, Villanelle and Eve are left on two sides of the fault line, encompassed by a growing sense of awkwardness that neither knows how to approach just yet. It's the kind of discombobulation that new couples feel when they sense an incoming next step in their relationship. It settles around them and somehow, there is room among Eve's tiny, cluttered apartment for the elephant in the room.

Eve distracts herself by setting about the task of gathering a small duffel bag for the trip ahead. Villanelle pretends to inspect the apartment, looking around as if it's the first (It isn't) and the last time she'll ever see Eve's home. 

They both need space to work out the feelings coursing through them before the new dynamic in their relationship can be explored.

Villanelle plops herself down rather unceremoniously onto Eve's mattress and the springs underneath groan in protest. She picks up the nearby picture frame and examines the photo inside. Eve and Niko are pictured in happier times. A honey moon, maybe? Eve looks considerably younger. 

Villanelle decides she doesn't want to ponder that and turns the photo face down on the window ledge, curling her lip in displeasure. 

She sprawls herself back against Eve's pillow, turning to borrow her face into it. Eve's scent overwhelms her senses on her next breath and she relaxes deeper into the mattress.

Home.

The word turns itself over and over again in her mind. She is home and she is safe for perhaps the first time in her life. Well, maybe 'safe' is still to be determined, if indeed she ever will be, but being in Eve's presence provides her with an undeniable sense of security. 

She wonders if Eve feels the same. 

Her arm shifts underneath pillow and catches something solid. Curiously, Villanelle curls her fingers around it and slips it from it's hiding place. 

It is a heart. Not just any heart. It's the heart she gave Eve nestled inside of a teddy bear. A physical representation of her own heart, which already beat for Eve Polastri long ago, she thinks. 

"Admit it, Eve. You wish I was here."

Her own voice pours from the heart as she toys with it in her hands. The sound brings Eve to step slowly out of the bathroom where she had been collecting toiletries. She takes a moment to watch Villanelle, who looks thoroughly fascinated by the object she holds in her hands. Eve wonders what she must be thinking. 

"You were right." Eve steps forward and Villanelle sits up, intently meeting her gaze. Suddenly Eve feels a weight on her chest and she struggles with the conflicting emotions that have been brewing inside her since before that first dinner with Villanelle in her kitchen. She thinks she catches the ghost of smug satisfaction in Villanelle's eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it comes. 

"I did wish you were here. God....even-even after everything, after Rome. I was furious. I wanted to hate you so badly, but I could never escape wanting to have you with me." 

Villanelle lets out an audible, quivering sigh at the admission. She sets the heart down in the window and focuses solely on Eve, like she wants no distraction from the moment that is developing between them. 

"I...um" Eve stutters. "I just think about you. All the time."

"I thought about you all the time." Villanelle admits. She remembers feeling regret for the first time after shooting Eve. Everything that came after: the wedding to a woman she didn't love, throwing herself into her work. It was a distraction from the gnawing regret of killing the woman she loves more deeply, more purely, than anyone before. 

"I masturbate about you a lot." Eve says as she comes to stand in front of Villanelle. Both of them smile at the callback to Paris and then Villanelle scoots over, patting the empty space beside her. 

"Lay with me? Please?"

Eve complies, shimmying into her side of the bed and then they're laying on their sides facing each other. It's another callback to Paris and both can feel the deja vu.

Eve remembers what it was like to look into Villanelle's eyes then. God she was so arrogant. And ignorant, really. She thought a handful of files could show her everything she needed to know about the psychopath looking back at her. But she learned that she had only just scratched the surface of what it meant to be Oksana Astankova. 

In a weird way, she thought that she deserved to be shot for her hubris just as much as Villanelle had deserved a knife in the gut. Like a zoo keep forgetting his place in the food chain and getting mauled by a tiger. 

The pair of hazel eyes looking back at her are different than they were then. The touch against her cheek is softer. Villanelle radiates the same genuine love and devotion that Eve feels herself, and there's not a trace of possession to be found in her eyes. This Villanelle feels so warm, so familiar, and yet she's a complete stranger compared to the petulant, spoiled Villanelle Eve last knew. 

There is that pull again. The one that drew them back to each other on the bridge. The one that always drew them back together, as if the cosmos itself refused to separate them. Eve found her eyes flickering to Villanelle's lips. They are so impossibly close. Just one tiny move and this tension between them would snap in the most glorious way. 

"What do you want, Eve?" Villanelle sighs in a voice thick with barely contained desire. She knew what she wanted. And she knew what Eve wanted. Now Eve just needed to admit it out loud to herself. 

"I want this. You. A future. With you." 

And Villanelle springs forward, surging into Eve and crashing their lips together for the second time that night. 

Someone, maybe both of them, moans into the kiss. They can't really be sure. All of the waiting. All of the anticipation. All of the confined intensity and heat between them. It all melts into this moment. 

Villanelle allows Eve to turn them over as their mouths dance against each other, pulling Eve into her lap before the kiss breaks with an audible smack and her lips burn a scorching path down Eve's neck. Eve's hands find purchase in Villanelle's hair, both threatening and promising to ruin the perfect bun on blonde hair. 

This is what home feels like. 

Both of them think that as they feel their hearts beat together where their chests are joined. 

Eve lets out a wanton groan as Villanelle's hands find tender purchase on her backside. Then she's scrambling to tear her own shirt of and Villanelle stops. Eve finds her staring in awe, positively marveling at Eve's uncovered body with a dopey, slack-mouthed expression full of desire. 

She's seen Eve topless before, but she finds that the cheap light bulbs of Eve's kitchen pale in comparison to how luminous Eve looks in the moonlight. 

As if from some form of muscle memory, Villanelle's fingers automatically trail up Eve's body, and she delights at the tiny shivers they leave in their wake on the way up to the shimmering, glossy looking scar tissue on the left side of Eve's chest. 

Acting on some unknown instinct, one of Eve's hands mirrors the action. It leaves Villanelle's hair and trails down her body stopping above her yellow cloak on the spot where she knows the scar from Paris is. She can almost feel the heat from it radiating through Villanelle's cloak and scorching her fingertips if she tries. 

Their eyes meet again and Villanelle nods, allowing Eve to remove that ridiculous cloak. Then her fingers are on the faded knife wound. The skin of Villanelle's stomach shudders at her touch; shying away in fear of being marred again. She runs her thumb over the scar on a delicate, tender promise. 

Never again.

And just like that, Eve finds her self being flipped back onto the mattress. The scales of their balancing act are tipped yet again.

Push and pull. 

Pleasure and pain. 

They both think that if this is what consuming each other feels like then they'll gladly spend the rest of their lives trying. 

Villanelle's leg lodges in between Eve's thighs in just the right way and she gasps. The younger woman pulls back to marvel at her again. She's spent countless hours invested in fantasies of this very moment, but it is so beautifully different from anything she had conjured up in her mind's eye. It makes her feel like a virgin again; experimenting with uncharted waters in a sea of sexual possibility. 

She grinds herself experimentally into Eve once again and Eve groans out in frustration again. 

"Get on with it. Please..." She hisses with desire. 

"You're sure?" Villanelle asks, hands hovering over Eve's trouser button like she's about to unwrap the most precious treasure imaginable. 

Eve grabs her by the t-shirt she is still wearing and brings their lips together, sliding her tongue into the waiting hotness of Villanelle's mouth. She breaks the kiss to trail seductive kisses up Villanelle's neck and stops to nibble at her ear lobe. 

"Yes."

Such a small word; a simple affirmation. But, like a spark in a pile of hay, it ignites a blaze that threatens to consume these two women. And they are content to let it. 

In another time, Paris maybe, Villanelle would've been aggressive. She usually is when it comes to sex. All predatory dominance and lust. She takes joy in invading her partners' senses; consuming them entirely until they have nothing left to give, then discarding them for the next fuck toy. 

But Eve is different. As she is in so many ways. Villanelle wants to take her time; wants to truly know Eve. So, she slides the trousers down inch by glorious inch, each patch of skin there is to caress proves more thrilling than the last. She follows her hands will gentle kisses and nips down Eve's thighs. 

There's a small cut on Eve's right leg just above the knee and Villanelle frowns when she sees it. 

"Shaving accident." Eve answers the silent question and Villanelle almost purrs reverently as she bends down to kiss that spot. 

Eve positively aches at the care and attention Villanelle is showing. She's fascinated and enamored with every side of the younger woman, but this caring and attentive side is quickly becoming her favorite. She feels uncomfortably distant suddenly and all that matters is the need to be near Villanelle. To feel flesh against flesh. 

She grabs at Villanelle's shirt again, ignoring the surprised huff she receives in response, and yanks it right off of Villanelle's back, pulling them back into each other. 

"That's rude." Villanelle whispers, smug and defective, before they are kissing again. Without the clothing between them, their hands are left free to explore. The only sound in the room is the rustle of bed sheets and the signs that escape them as hands wander over each other's bodies, sending shivers through both of them. 

Neither quite remembers how, but somewhere along the way, they've both come out of their bras. Villanelle pulls her attention away from Eve's mouth and begins a journey down.

Down...down...down...

Down past Eve's neck, and over her collarbone, and finally to her breasts. Eve lets a sigh escape as Villanelle takes a breast into her mouth, bringing one hand up to play with the other has her lips suck and her tongue laves over the sensitive mound of flesh. 

Her free hand snakes down lower, toward Eve's underwear. She pauses once more, silently asking permission as her mouth continues to worship Eve's breasts. 

The hand that Eve doesn't have gently nestled in Villanelle's hair slides down to hold Villanelle's hand at her underwear, sliding then both down past the cotton barrier together. 

They both groan at the contact when Villanelle makes the first experimental strokes around that delicious heat, reading at Eve's folds, but not quite going where Eve needs her most. 

Eve is deliciously wet, and this small act of intimacy feels so...so utterly right. Villanelle actually sheds tears. Eve's hand in her hair coaxed her to make eye contact and they look into each other with a wide eyed wonder as they feel something else lock into place, joining them even tighter together. This is where they are meant to be. 

"Please." Eve repeats for the second time that night. It makes Villanelle want to kiss her, and so she does. Their lips meet as Villanelle finds Eve's clit and Eve moans into the kiss at the jolt that starts in her core and emanates through her entire being. 

"God, I love you." Eve whispers after, head lolling back into the pillow as Villanelle sets a deliciously, agonizingly slow pace between her legs. 

"What?" Villanelle's pace falters only slightly, and she pulls back from Eve's forehead to look at her. In the moon light, with her chest heaving in desperate need, and her face flushed with desire, Villanelle thinks this is the most beautiful she has ever looked. 

They've both imagined this scenario countless times, though Eve would be more reluctant to admit it. But here, in the moment, it was unlike anything either had dreamed of. They both felt as if they would come from the sheer intensity alone. 

"I love you." Eve repeats, savoring the words on her tongue and finally admitting out loud the truth of them to herself and to Villanelle. 

The flame roars ever larger at the gasoline that's just been thrown on it and Villanelle's pace grows more urgent as Eve fights amid her building pleasure to be coordinated enough to pull Villanelle's trousers down. 

Villanelle continues to plunge her fingers into the depths of Eve, not once faltering as she kicks off her boots to allow Eve to remove her pants. Someone growls a little bit, someone else hisses, nails drag down Villanelle's back over the taught muscles that are dancing in effort just under the skin. 

And then Eve manages to flip them, bracing her hands on either side of Villanelle's face. 

The predator becomes the prey.

Villanelle swallows down her pleasure with a gulp, regarding Eve's predatory expression with wide, surprised eyes. A smirk makes its way across her face as she watches Eve lick her lips. 

"You're not hiding any weapons, I hope." 

In truth, Eve could utterly destroy her and she thinks that she might say thank you as she feels her blood pool around her. 

"Asshole." Eve observes with a fond acceptance, delighting in the response she gets when she brings her hand down to cup Villanelle at her center. Her finger slides up and down over the fabric, encouraging the growing dampness. 

"You're going to ruin me." Villanelle says wistfully, reading Eve's mind. 

"But you'd like that. Wouldn't you?" Eve taunts, feeling a rush of power and confidence that only add to her arousal. 

Yes! Villanelle wants to scream. Instead, she reminds Eve with a thrust of her fingers into sweet, damp heat that she is not entirely powerless. 

"What do you want, Eve?" Her voice drops into that husky, sultry tone that brought Eve to ruin on one late night in Rome. 

"You." Eve sighs out, grinding herself on both Villanelle's fingers and her lap with an urgent, instinctive need to chase at that feeling of release. Her control of the situation is slipping, and Villanelle is all too eager to catch it. 

"Say it again, Eve" Villanelle flips them over and they are skin to skin, chest to chest, body to body, once more. 

"I want you." Eve repeats, breathless. She raises her head to kiss Villanelle once more, drinking in everything she has to give and offering herself in return.

"For how long?" Villanelle's palm brushes against Eve's clit on each thrust, unforgiving and just...so... right. In turn, Eve works Villanelle to her own release, holding their faces close with her free hand. 

She presses soft kisses to the side of Villanelle's face, her hairline, her temple, pulling back to make eye contact as they both threaten to come undone. 

"Forever." The statement turns into a whine and Eve comes suddenly and violently on Villanelle's fingers. In the throes of her passion she misses the elated sob that is pulled from Villanelle's throat at her words. 

And after the waves of her orgasm subside, she crawls on top of Villanelle, and joins their fingers over Villanelle's heart, repeating herself before she crawls down the length of Villanelle's slender, toned body to finish what she started. 

"Forever."


End file.
